


Life Cut Short

by Diglossia



Category: Panik
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diglossia/pseuds/Diglossia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Linke always had that one person who wanted to be there for him. Now that he's screwed up, he has little choice but to let Frank in. Written for hollie136.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hollie's Drabble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollie136](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hollie136).



Linke stood in front of the mirror, studying his naked body, a portrait that filled him with loathing. The steam from the running shower rose and fell in transparent clouds behind him, saturating the room in its damp heat. The mirror clouded over, obliterating his image.

 

The sound of footsteps, quiet and familiar, reached him from the kitchen below. He almost turned to the door, to the comfort he knew would be offered. His decision stood. He stepped into the cubicle, closed the door, trapping himself with his fears, his monsters.

 

The blade cut deeply, the pain momentary. Finally, relief.


	2. Part 2

Music had not been Frank's only dream and that had been his solidarity. His Aunt Monika was a lawyer, a damn fine one, and she had been the one who had contacted Olaf Meinking when David had finally thrown in the towel or, rather, Timo had demanded that management cut his best friend a break. Frank hadn't inherited his aunt's brains or his parents' for that matter but even as a school kid he had had a voice and he had known how to use it. If he could not get into university because of too many years of just not caring about physics or calculus classes, he could still speak out with lyrics and his songs. Frank could still make a difference without an Abitur and he was dead set on doing so.

Meeting up with Christian Linke in a café in Hamburg had been the break Frank had not needed. He'd almost thought about not showing up- he had the studio in Heidelberg, he had status, he had work. But, in that one meeting, the one Frank nearly opted not to go to, in seeing the face and the body that went with the profile name of the guy he'd been idly chatting to online, everything had changed. Frank, in short, had fallen in love.

ØØØ

Sitting in the same club. Again. Third time that week. Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Listening to bands, scream, pop, rock, punk, ska, genres David was barely familiar with. All of it just to wait for a drummer to stand out, someone with enough talent to be worth approaching.

It came down to three. The first said no flat out. He had his own band and his own agenda. The second could barely read sheet music. And the third, the third had been Juri.

He had not said yes, he had not said no, he had not said much of anything honestly, just stood there looking irritated and bored. He did not care about contracts or even the promise of a future published album.

"What are you planning to do?" David had asked. The situation had been desperate. Max was gone. He would be in the 'hospital' for weeks, if not months. They would not have had that kind of time even if Max had said he was coming back. The contract was there, they just needed a drummer to fill out the last spot, clinch everything together. All this guy had to do was be able to play. "Now that you've got your Abitur?"

Juri had shrugged. "Something."

"It's a paid job," Timo added in. "A house with rent. You don't have to like the music." David grimaced. He couldn't imagine playing music he didn't like, not for any amount of money. "You just have to record. We won't be playing live shows for a while so you can do your own thing most of the time."

"Hm," Juri said, making David want to throttle him. He just did not care. He was so good but he just didn't care about anything. Typical drummer.

David wasn't paying attention, too busy spitting irate thoughts in Juri's general direction, and so was caught off guard when Juri finally had something to say.

"I have a question- what's in the bag?" Juri asked, nodding to Jan, of all people, and the strap cutting across his hoodie. "When you played earlier…was that just to cover the drums?"

"It's a turntable," Jan said softly, looking embarrassed. He stared down at his hands, which were shoved down deep in his hoodie pocket. He wasn't used to the attention this guy was suddenly giving him. Most people never even noticed he was on stage. "It's for scratching."

"Can I see it?" Juri asked. Jan flushed and nodded, setting his bag on the table. Juri stared at him with a frightening intensity, taking Jan's every fluttering movement, only looking at the beat-up, thirdhand turntable when Jan touched it. His gaze had turned wolfish, predatory, as though Jan were some sort of prey. David saw right through Juri's words then. There was a connection between this drummer and Jan. Something about the DJ had caught Juri's interest.

Jan set a record down and put the needle in place, showing Juri the basics while Juri less than subtly checked him out. David glanced over Jan's head and caught Linke trying to hide a smirk behind his hand, rubbing his lips as he shook his head at David in amusement. It was obvious what Juri wanted and what his incentive would be. Juri would work, doing everything they asked him to in the hopes of winning Jan's affection, the Jacob to Jan's Rachel.

David still felt bad about it sometimes, less so than he had before the two had started dating (there had been times in those three years had been downright miserable to be around Juri; he could mope pretty badly for such a stoic guy), but still bad. That day he had used Juri's interest in Jan to pull him into a band Juri had not initially cared about, though he had later when it mattered.

Their little band had, at its roots, always been about love. David had loved Timo since childhood and Timo had loved him back. Juri had loved Jan for years and they were together now. David did not know now how he could have overlooked Linke and Frank's relationship for so long. He had assumed Frank was straight, a full Kinsey zero or _maybe_ a one, even though the singer's every action around Linke was different from the rest of the band. David had written it off as admiration (at that point, he'd been dying for a semblance of heteronormativity; all his friends outside the band coming out as gay around that time was starting to create some awkward love hexagons that gave David headaches to think about). The two had been so different from Jan and Juri. There had been other people in their lives for years so maybe he had not been so oblivious to them; rather, they had kept to their private lives private.

Frank could reach Linke. He could bring him back. He, David, had brought Timo back from the edge, Frank could do the same for Linke. With that, David decided to go talk to Linke. If he let Frank in, they could solve this. It was their last chance to save Linke from himself.

ØØØ

"Linke, tell me it was an accident," David all but demanded, his hands tightening into fists. He had pulled Linke aside to talk to him, making certain they were out of anyone's hearing range. He wanted the truth from Linke. If Linke was so depressed that he would try to end his life deliberately, they could find someone to help him. "You didn't try to kill yourself on purpose. You wouldn't do that."

"Perhaps you don't know me all that well." Linke's voice was glacial.

"Perhaps I don't," David agreed. "But I know a thing or two about suicidal people and you do, too. If you wanted to die, you'd be dead now."

"Maybe you got in the way," Linke countered.

"What are you, emo?" David glared at him, which was in and of itself frightening. David had a very surreal look to him and he could twist that into some of the scariest shit Linke had ever seen. "What is this? It's like you're deliberately trying to push me away."

"Mayb-"

"Oh, _shut up_," David snapped, raising his hand up to clutch his forehead like the conversation was paining him. "You think I don't know how down you've been acting lately or the way Frank looks at you like you're some sort of frickin' sex god? All he wants is a chance to be with you and you won't give it to him even though you feel the same way and it's eating at you. Let him in, Chris. Let _someone_ in, cause you're sure as hell not talking to me about your problems."

"You don't understand!"

"What's there to understand? Frank likes you and you like him back. You're acting all depressed and shit and instead of letting him help you, you've decided to make yourself even more miserable. For a smart guy, you sure can be stupid sometimes."

David glared at Linke, forcing Linke to look away when he could not think of anything more to say. David was right, Linke was not suicidal. He had not meant to nearly off himself, he had screwed up. There were things Linke hated about himself, so many things, things he had no intent to talk about, but they were not enough to want to end it all.

Why David thought Frank could change things, Linke did not know.

ØØØ

"Hey," Frank said softly, handing a bowl of something hot to Linke. Steam trickled up in thin twists, Linke simply watching it.

They had the bandhouse to themselves for the evening. David had decided he wanted to see some new movie that was only playing in one theater on the other side of the city, which of course got Jan all excited so he dragged Juri along with them, turning it into a double date. Linke personally thought it would have been easier to just stay home and get it on but David had a thing about movie theaters. Linke remembered when David and Timo first got together…he had been put off going to the cinema for weeks afterwards. Seeing Timo get flustered because David was touching him not so secretly and giggling like a madman was not something Linke enjoyed.

It had given him some alone time with Frank, though, so it was not all bad. Linke could stretch out on the couch without worrying about fighting over it with anyone, which was good because he was too long for anyone else to fit comfortably alongside him. Frank was sitting on the floor. The television was off since neither of them really watched it anyway, and it was quiet, comfortably so.

"Eat, it's goulash." Frank smiled and took a spoonful of his own soup to show that it was alright.

"I'm not really hungry," Linke said. He honestly was not hungry; he was far too interested in watching Frank to pay attention to his own body.

"Eat anyways. You're a twig."

"So what? You don't still like me, do you?" Linke asked, trying to make the question light.

Frank looked down at his goulash, his silence saying everything. He blew out a cool breath, the steam from his bowl stirred up by the air, and looked up.

They were so close that their noses were almost brushing. Frank could feel Linke's breath on his cheek. Linke closed his eyes but did not move away. They stayed that way, unmoving, just feeling each other's aura, content in the closeness.

Temple to temple, Frank whispered:

"I still love you…I never stopped loving you."

Linke's breathing hitched. Then he leaned forward to kiss Frank, cupping the singer's cheek like he actually knew what he was doing. A flash of jealousy burned through Frank at the thought of someone else kissing Linke but he suppressed it, letting Linke probe softly, pressing forward slowly, unsure. No one else would ever guess this was how Linke showed affection, this cautious, confused forwardness that was all Frank had ever known Linke to be.

He nudged Linke, settling his right hand on Linke's hip. Linke locked in place. Their eyes met and then Linke relaxed.

"Chris," Frank murmured, knowing that more than anything else, saying Linke's name would tear down those inner walls.

And it did. Linke smiled, more a weird twist of his lips than a smile but Frank loved it all the same.

Frank twisted, pillowing Linke's head on his shoulder and stroking long lines down Linke's neck, through his curling hair and down to his skin, Linke shivering when Frank touched under his jawline, shifting closer, seeking comfort. Frank gave it because that was all he could give.

"I still love you, Chris," he whispered, not expecting Linke to say anything back. "No matter what you do, no matter what you look like, I'll still love you. You could cut off all your hair and run naked through the streets-" Linke's lips twitched "-and I might think you've gone crazy but I'll…still…love you," he said firmly, stroking the flannel shirt under his hand.

At that moment, for Linke, it was enough. He gave in.

ØØØ

The bed was cool, the blankets chilly and almost uncomfortably rough. The thread count was terrible. But none of that mattered because it was Linke's bed and Linke's thread count. Everything smelled of Linke, crisp, piney with a bit of rosemary and lemon thyme. Clean, good, familiar.

Frank smiled to keep himself from falling apart and to keep from interrupting the beautiful, imperfect dream lying next to him. He ran his fingers down Linke's right temple, skimming over the pale skin of his cheek, and on onto the uninked side of Linke's neck. Linke's pulse beat strongly against his fingertips. Frank was surprised to find how much that affected him. He had known Linke would pull through but…Frank swallowed. Chris was alright, Chris was here with him, Chris would be okay.

Linke shifted, turning under Frank's touch with all the lithe grace of a sleeping cat, scooting closer to Frank's body heat like it was sunlight on a window ledge but not waking up. Frank breathed out in relief. He did not want Linke to wake up and realize that his petting was actually a careful examination of Linke's body.

Frank had not seen Linke unclothed in a long time, not even his upper arms, and- he hated to admit it but it was the truth, Frank was expecting to find more thin, red, slightly raised lines along Linke's inner arms. There would have been no doubt in Frank's mind what those were. Linke didn't cook, didn't handle anything that would burn or cut him in passing. There would be no reason for the awkwardly angled grease and oven burns that Frank sported on his left arm to show up on Linke's or for a slice or two against his fingertips. Even a guitar string snapping and breaking against skin didn't create those queer red lines. No, only a razor blade made those.

ØØØ

Linke woke up surprised to find Frank not there. Frank slept later than he did most days. Linke glanced at his alarm clock, thinking that it was only eight o'clock or so.

It was noon.

"Damn," he muttered and got up, only to lie back down and bury his face in the pillow on Frank's side of the bed. It was noon, he had already slept for-freaking-ever, a few more minutes would hurt nothing.

He was just curling up to go back to sleep when his eyes shot open. Why the hell was he wrapping himself around a pillow that only vaguely smelled like Frank when he could have the real thing? Frank was surely downstairs. He could go find him and drag him back upstairs if there was anyone else home.

Shoving on a t-shirt, Linke padded his way down the hallway and downstairs. Frank was in the kitchen, he soon found out, heating up the goulash from yesterday.

Linke slipped his arms around Frank's waist, leaning into the singer, his forehead against the back of Frank's head. How Frank smelled so good after sex without a shower or cologne, Linke didn't know but he breathed Frank in like he was purest oxygen.

"Are you okay?" he heard Frank ask. Linke frowned. Of course he was okay: he had just gotten laid, for the first time, by the guy he'd been fantasizing about for ages. Why wouldn't he be okay?

"Yeah," was all he said, more a breath than a real word. Frank turned around to look at him, Linke not letting him go. Linke leaned in and kissed. He expected Frank to kiss back enthusiastically, a vestige of the night before but instead Frank pulled away.

"Chris…" Frank mumbled, looking down at the floor.

A sickening chill swept through Linke. What was Frank doing? He was pulling away but why?

"…you don't have to act like this. I'm really grateful for last night but…" Frank bit his lip, sinking his teeth into the often abused skin. "…you don't have to act like you care." He looked up, sadness deepening the color and beauty of his eyes.

Linke growled, a low, angry sound in the back of his throat, and all but slammed Frank into the counter. He kissed Frank hard, gripping Frank's hip as he pushed the kiss deeper. Frank kissed back automatically- it was that or get tongue up his nose- then gave in, putting his passion into it, sliding his hand up under Linke's shirt to feel the smooth skin. He sucked on Linke's tongue, almost laughing from giddiness when Linke groaned and let him take control.

"Idiot," Linke gasped. "I do care. Don't _tell me_ I don't care." His words were harsh and heavy but they came out ragged and breathless. Frank smiled. He kissed Linke lightly, chastely, savoring the feel of his yearned for love in his arms.

"I love you," he whispered.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall with a bang sure to leave marks. Jan and David barged in, making noise out of nothing. Frank sighed, expecting Linke to jerk away. Linke didn't move. They stared at each other, Frank still braced against the counter and Linke half over him. Frank grinned and looked at the intruders.

"Damn," Jan said, dropping…something, Linke really didn't fucking care what it happened to be…on the kitchen table. "You guys need a room or something?"

"No," Linke said, matching Frank's wide smile with one of his own as he met Frank's eye. "We've got everything we need right here."


	3. Part 1

_No, no, no._ Linke's eyes widened in terror as the blood began to, to spray from the cut on his thigh. What had he done? It had been perfect up till now. He had been so careful about using his legs instead of his arms and now he had gone and fucked it all up.

The blood was coming out to fast and too bright, the water pouring down from the showerhead somehow not enough to wash it away. Linke gripped the shower rod as his vision blurred. Suddenly, it broke free and he slipped in the red water, water filled with his own blood, too much.  
Linke fell, the shower rod clanging to the floor.

_No, this wasn't supposed to happen,_ he thought as he struggled to breathe around the humid air. _I didn't mean to go this far. God, it's been forever since I believed in you but if you're really out there, save me. I'll do anything, I'll change my whole life, I'll give everything I have to charity and become a wandering ascetic, just save me now. Don't let me die. I don't want to die.   
Please…_

ØØØ

Jan looked at Frank, his eyes glinting with a hard fever. He tied the tourniquet securely around Linke's upper leg, praying that it would staunch the bleeding somewhat. Frank pressed down on the towel bunched on top of the cut that was the cause of all this, the white fabric quickly turning a bright, brilliant shade of red Jan had never seen before. He had forgotten blood could be that bright. Frank's lips were set in a grim line. There was an aura about him, a feeling of authority that Jan could not recall having seen before.

"David, call an ambulance," Frank ordered, not looking at the guitarist as he applied increased pressure to Linke's leg. "Juri, tell them Linke's losing blood and fast. He's O positive. They might test him anyway on the way to the hospital but tell them that he's O positive."

"Okay," David said.

Jan wondered why Frank had told David to call but the way Timo was shaking made that obvious in a second. David had the best control; between him and Juri, they would get the message across. Jan knew he himself would have started stumbling and blathering, talking too fast for the operator to understand him. Shit, he had forgotten about Timo.

He heard David calling and looked up to see the guitarist holding the phone against Juri's mouth as Juri calmly dictated what Frank had told him. Juri's hands- Jan blanched- Juri's hands were covered with slick blood.

ØØØ

"No, not again. Davii," Timo whispered, his eyes glazing over as memories overtook him. David swallowed his own fear. He had to be strong for Timo. "I can't- I can't do this again."

_Max blowing smoke into Timo's face, grinning as the rapper turned away in disgust…_

Max laughing as Jan and Linke dumped ice down the back of David's shirt as David shrieked like a little girl…so happy…everything fine…and then…

Max smiling and flicking the bottom of Timo's cap lightly, weakly.

"Keep shining, sunshine. You're the only one of us who still gives a damn about this world. Cheer up. Black isn't your color."

"Max! No! Don't you leave me, man, don't you fucking dare!" Yelling at him, at the too thin boy held together by an IV and wires…so many wires…

"I was never cut out for the big time. Find someone else, Ti, I'm done."

Everything had seemed fine. There had not been a single clue or sign of what Max was planning to do. So when it happened, Timo was in shock. Max had been so strong, so calm, so undeniably together. Or so Timo had thought because in that one day, he found Max's whole life in ruins. The despair, the self-doubt and hatred, they had been so well hidden, so carefully kept away from Timo's stupid eyes.

It was happening all over again and Timo could not stop it.

ØØØ

David studied Frank there in that hospital waiting room. He had little else to do. They could only get glimpses of Linke and David had no stomach for that much blood. Timo was gone, lost in his own head, completely unresponsive to words or touches. So, when he could not comfort his boyfriend, he decided to watch Frank under the pretense of holding him together if he started to crack.

He remembered well that Frank had been Linke's choice. He had picked the singer up online, somehow, David had never asked. There had been too much to worry about at the time to reject Linke's choice.

Who was this guy who did not even flinch at the sight of spurting blood? What lay behind those often vapid, pretty blue eyes?

Linke had always been the wild card. Now David wondered who Frank was, what Linke had seen in him that none of them had ever realized, what kind of depth of friendship he and Linke shared that Frank was sitting there as though nothing had happened while Timo was in shambles.

But then, there was no way Frank could know what Max had done to Timo, how Max had shattered his world with one blow, leaving the three of them to glue the pieces back together. Frank could not know how important Linke was to Timo, how much Timo relied on the bassist for support. He could not know how much David hated Linke for doing this to Timo.

Timo was unchanging and he expected those around him to be the same way. For Linke to do this…David prayed that Linke had made a mistake, that he had not reneged on his promise to Timo that he was not going to leave him, too, just like his father, just like so many people. If David made this about Timo, he wouldn't have to think about Linke.

Last time, David had given Timo his heart. He had shared his love with his best friend and just barely pulled Timo through as they entered one of the worst chapters of their lives. What more could he give Timo? Last time, Jan had bracketed Timo, kept him hard at work writing lyrics and busy with distraction after distraction that Jan had only just disguised as harebrained schemes. Jan had kept Timo too busy to worry about Max. Could Jan do that again? Last time, it had been Linke who had made Max's name taboo. Linke had erased Max's involvement in the band, kept Timo from remembering that it was that band, Timo's dream, that had led Max on a path of self-destruction. Linke had told Juri Max's name once and that had been that. Max had become a dream, his work and his music disappearing overnight as if it had never happened.

For the first time in three years, David wondered who Frank really was.

ØØØ

While David was watching him, Frank was thinking about how Linke had never, ever cheated on him that he knew of. Not once in their three year on again, off again relationship where sometimes the gap between their times together was six days and sometimes six months.

Frank told himself it was because Linke was too good for the fangirls and boys. He thought he was better than them and he was waiting for someone worthwhile to come along.

But the truth was, Linke did not know how to. He did not know how to kiss someone with passion. He did not know how to take someone back to a hotel room. He did not know how to have one night stands or how to roll out a condom without caring.

Linke liked and he loved but he did not know how to bridge that gap between desire and reality. He would laugh, he would flirt with Jan and Juri, and anyone who asked for his signature but he froze when things got too close. He closed up and made excuses, running away from the possibility of more before it ever happened.

And if he did otherwise, he would never tell Frank.

Frank, he had never understood Linke. He had tried, much more than anyone would give him credit for but he just could not grasp the inner workings of that wickedly sharp mind that was so much smarter than his own would ever be.

Frank's thoughts turned back to the present. He was pretty sure no one expected him to keep his calm and not lose his head when Linke 'fell'. He was pretty sure the guys thought he would freak out or hyperventilate and it would be Juri who would try to stop the bleeding and David who would call the ambulance and Timo who would be kneeling beside Linke's limp body and all that blood because none of them knew how well Frank knew Linke, how fucking brave a face he could put up when his sometimes boyfriend let him in or not.

Frank was not who they thought he was with Linke. He was not some lovesick, adoring fan of a friend; he was more than that, more than he or Linke ever let on.

Frank sat in the waiting room trying to call up tears as though this were some kind of shock to him instead of the sickening eventuality it was.

Jan was leaning into Timo's shoulder, his arm wound around the rapper's back. Frank knew who was more shaken by this for all that Jan was trying to make it look like Timo was the one holding him. David looked sick, paler than frozen milk. He chalked it up to shock on the guitarist's part, not up to pondering why Jan was holding Timo and not David. Something was happening but it was not as important then as it could be to him. Juri was plucking idly at the magazines on the table to his right, looking almost bored, not realizing that there was dried blood darkening his blonde hair. It was a face, far better than the one Frank was putting out.

They had not expected this. Every damn one of them had known Linke longer than he had but none of them expected to see Linke a bloody mess being carried away on a stretcher. It irked Frank to see them acting this way but he knew just how well Linke could hide things; the closer to his heart, the more he cared, the better he hid his feelings.

For anyone but Linke, blood would not have been the first sign that something was wrong. Frank bared his teeth sure that his friends only saw a weak smile. They thought he was shaken and frightened, trying to reassure them while he fell apart the fastest. He was scared all right but it wasn't not about that. Linke would pull though, he always did. He had made a mistake this time, nicked an artery he had forgotten was there, pushed his body too far. He would pull through.

Hopefully, he would lean on Frank now. He would have to because he could not go cold again. David and Jan would not let him. Timo might but Timo knew his sort, he'd been David's best friend for what?- fifteen years now.

Frank's relationship with Linke had never been about sex. Attraction, yes, infatuation, perhaps. But had it been about sex or even pleasure, their "relationship" would have fallen through a long time ago.

Frank sat back, his legs spread and a spacey look to his eyes but he might as well have been leaning forward with his hands steepled against his lips for all that was raging inside him. No, Frank was not so clueless.

ØØØ

"Why?" Linke, his eyes hard and cold, asked. "Why did you wait for him for so long? Why did you wait until Jan had no one else to turn to and decided you were finally good enough for him?"

Juri just smiled that infuriatingly lazy smile and shook his head slightly.

"Because I love him."

"But he's just using you, taking you up on your offer because you were his friend and no one else wanted him? He's, God, Juri, he's not that great. Why would you want to be with someone who didn't want you back?"

"Jan likes me now. That's all that matters."

Linke let out a cry of frustration and slammed his hand into the table. Juri's expression did not change. He did not even register Linke's anger. He was as calm and cool as always, patient and kind. It sickened Linke. It reminded him of Frank and that scared him, that he was _just like_ Jan, torturing Frank while he tried to make up his mind.

"You make me sick," Linke hissed, standing up and leaning over the table to look directly into Juri's perpetually calm eyes. "You're such a pushover, so weak that you can't focus on anyone but Jan and he's _not worth it_. He does nothing but music. He has no friends outside this band and he does nothing but read books. He's off in his own world, no one can reach him…" Linke faltered.

"This isn't about Jan anymore is it?" Juri asked in that horribly calm voice.

"Of course, it's about Jan!" Linke snapped. "Who else would it be about?!"

"You," Juri said, leaning right back into Linke's face. "And Frank. He's in love with you and you can't deal with that because you don't think you deserve him. And, honestly? You're pissing me the fuck off right now, talking about my boyfriend like that. So let me tell you one thing about Jan so maybe you understand a little bit more about yourself: Jan loves me."

"He was the one who waited, not me because when you love someone you don't control it. You don't choose when to love them or when to stop. I didn't wait; I just was."

"At any time in the last three years, Jan could have asked me to do anything for him, he could have abused my love for him and I'd be hard-pressed to say no. He could have had sex whenever he wanted, he could have asked me to give him all the money I had, and I…might've done it, just so I could let him know how much he means to me."

"So don't act like Jan's a selfish brat or that I'm being used. He waited until he loved me back to be with me and I'm never going to forget that."

Juri got up and left, leaving Linke at the table. Linke sat down hard. If he had been the type to blush, he would have been a scarlet shade of red but, as it were, he was still pale-faced while his face burned from Juri's words.

Linke came out of the room to see Juri with his arms around Juri's shoulders and Jan with his arms around Juri's waist, Jan's cheek against Juri's chest as Juri kissed the top of his head fondly. An arc of pain shot through Linke's gut; he knew Jan had heard everything.

"I- Jan…" Linke began.

Jan pressed his cheek against Juri's chest in a silent reassurance, Juri squeezing him back gently, before addressing Linke serenely, as though Juri's calmness had somehow leaked into him.

"I do love him, Chris. No matter what you or anyone else thinks, Juri isn't my backup. I really do care about him. And…I think that's what you're like with Frank. It's not that you think you're too good for him, it's more that you think he's too good for you, even if you'd never tell anyone that. N-" Jan paused. He glanced up at Juri who smiled and nuzzled his blonde scruff affectionately, making Linke wonder what Jan was going to say that needed that kind of encouragement. "No one's going to judge you for being with him, at this point, I don't think anyone really cares what you and he do together. And, and, even if people do judge you, it's because they're scared about their own insecurities and not because they really think there's something wrong with what you're doing. At least, that's what I think."

Even though it was shy little Jan talking, his words had the surety of Linke's mother when she talked about her twenty-five plus years of marriage. Jan was not saying love because he thought he was in love, he was saying it because he knew it, had seen it tested far enough to know that his words were true and lasting.

Could he have that with Frank? Linke wondered.

ØØØ

Linke had thought Juri stupid, his position hopeless, for loving Jan for so long when Jan clearly did not want him. But then, long after Linke had given up on Jan ever coming round, he did, admitting that he had lied, that he had been scared and confused by the thought of actually _being_ with Juri and what that would do to the people around them, their friends and family.

Linke wondered sometimes if that was how he was about life, professing to like or dislike this or that, standing staunchly behind an opinion he didn't honestly believe, all because he was afr- concerned about what other people thought of his stance. Was it worth letting people believe one thing to stave off disgust and ridicule? Linke thought it was. Anything was worth it to escape ridicule. Linke hated being made fun of.

Linke chewed on his thumbnail in thought.

He could have Frank. He could be happy with him, hell, he'd _been_ happy with him once upon a time. But was it worth it: to be called gay? To have his best friends laugh at the sight of them kissing, holding hands? It wasn't like Jan with Juri. Jan had had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He spent all of his time with Juri anyway, he wasn't shy about touching people, Juri lavished attention on him, Juri was as faithful as they came…Linke spent most of his time alone, he only touched people when he was joking around, Frank didn't lov- care about him the way Juri cared about Jan. Frank had been in relationships before and after they'd broken up. He was always flirting with girl after girl. Not like Juri at all. Not steadfast, not morose, not obsessive the way Juri was about Jan…Linke's throat closed up.

Hell, here he was with a guy he adored just begging to be with him and all he could think about was how it wasn't enough. The balance wasn't enough for his selfish self. The pros didn't outweigh the cons simply because Linke knew someone else had it better.


End file.
